


Trysails

by saltstreets



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Rare Pair Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 22:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21435565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltstreets/pseuds/saltstreets
Summary: “I know I can’t do much,” Blanky said, “but you can always talk to me. If you’re so inclined.”A (very late!) offering for Tender Tuesday, "a friend in need".
Relationships: Thomas Blanky/Lt Edward Little
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2019





	Trysails

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes…I immediately fell behind on the posting schedule. Anyways! I dig the concept of this pairing so much and while this isn't exactly the fic I set out to write, I'm still fairly pleased with it.
> 
> The orlop is where homoeroticism happens, we’re all agreed on this y/y?
> 
>   
You get a cookie if you can pick out which line was cribbed shamelessly from Hornblower.

**_A trysail is a small, sturdy fore-and-aft sail hoisted in place of larger mainsails in high winds or heavy seas, intended to keep control of the ship without damaging it._ **

Lieutenant Little -or rather Acting Captain Little, or whatever he now was in this strange limbo in which they now found themselves- was not on deck, an unusual circumstance. Blanky had hardly seen Little _not _doing something visible over the past few days, even if that something had just been standing about keeping an eye on activity.

He had a suspicion that Little was running himself ragged, and for no real reason at that. He had a certainty that the man wouldn’t say anything without being coaxed. But that was alright, because Blanky was good at coaxing. People and ice, it was all the same. Some things in life could be kicked through, but others required a more delicate touch for best results.

With that in mind he kept an eye out while making his rounds, and consequently found Little sat on a crate on the orlop, looking lost. More lost than usual. Little had been under a black cloud for months now, possibly longer. Blanky felt terribly sorry for the man: he had always been of a melancholy disposition, prone to sadness, and current circumstances hadn’t helped that much.

He clambered down the ladder, the unevenness of his new gait even more obvious on the rungs. “Lieutenant.”

“Mr Blanky-” Little startled and began to rise but Blanky waved him back down.

“No need,” he said as kindly as he possibly could. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Little laughed without humour. “It seems that I’m always disturbed these days, in some way or another.” He shook his head and smiled, this time more convincingly than the laughter had been. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t- I came down to take a quick look at the seams, and now look at me. Moping like a boy. I sound a misery.”

Blanky clunked across the worn boards to stand at a distance that could still be construed as respectful. “If you don’t mind me saying so, lieutenant, you don’t look too cheerful neither.”

“I am sorry,” said Little again, and sounded as though he meant it. “I’ve been in my own head too much as of late. Which isn’t helping anybody.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for,“ Blanky assured him, taking a step closer. “I can’t help but be concerned, is all. You’ve been under a right bit of pressure in recent days.”

“I dare say you’ve been through worse in that same time,” said Little, and a glimmer of a real smile passed over his face. “But thank you, Mr Blanky. I do appreciate it.”

“I know I can’t do much,” Blanky said, “but you can always talk to me. If you’re so inclined.”

“Don’t go selling yourself short. You’ve done so much for me already. I honestly don’t know how I would be managing without your assistance.”

_Are you even managing _with_ my assistance,_ Blanky wanted to ask, but Little already seemed so fragile and he didn’t want to press down on the cracks any harder than he had to. “The offer still stands. I’ve still got two ears, at least.”

Little hesitated and Blanky thought he knew why. His friendship with Crozier wasn’t exactly a secret. “Don’t think you can’t speak freely, lieutenant, you won’t offend me,” he said. “I know Francis has been far from his best self these past months. God knows I love the man but I can’t defend him from that.”

“It’s not even that,” said Little. “I mean- it was. I did my best but I was so _tired_, and then the whole affair with Lady Silence, when he tried to have her thrown off the ship.”

“Yes, well. Perhaps ‘far from his best’ is letting the man off easy.”

“And I agree with you- or I did at the time. But you didn’t see him afterwards, in the wardroom. After Doctor MacDonald…” Little trailed off, pointedly not looking at the most recent addition to Blanky’s personal collection of limbs.

“Sawed off my leg? It’s alright, lieutenant, I was rather present at the actual event.”

“Right.” Little smiled ruefully. “But when Captain Crozier announced he intended on sobering up, and he gave me his gun and told me not to return it until he was well again,” Little looked even more miserable than he had before. “I respected him quite a lot in that moment. I respect him now. I hope he’ll be back with us soon.”

“As do I,” said Blanky cautiously, sensing an addendum to Little’s words hanging about his dark head. 

“There’s no sense in hiding it, not from you, I suppose.” Little sounded absolutely wretched. “You won’t judge me for it, or if you do, it’s only what I deserve.”

“Edward,” said Blanky, deciding that what Little needed was for him to stop messing about with the structure of command, which was clearly doing nothing in any way useful at the moment, and nudging him to shift over on the crate so that he could seat himself beside the man, “what’s all this about?” In the eyes of the Admiralty, Little outranked him. But to Blanky it was more than obvious that he would have been hard pressed to make that argument to God or more importantly, Little himself at the moment.

“I was angry with Crozier for a long time because I thought he wasn’t-” Little seemed to choke on his own words momentarily, and Blanky was treated to the amusing sight of a naturally dutiful man attempting to say something mildly treasonous. “-he wasn’t acting in a way befitting his rank. He could have done better,” said Little, looking like he’d chewed into a particularly grisly lump out of a Goldner’s tin.

“Yes, well. Anyone could see that,” Blanky encouraged. 

“I expected better of my captain. But now that I must take responsibility in his absence, I find myself just as sorely lacking as I believed Crozier to be.” Little pressed his face into his hands. “I thought I would be better cut out for this. I am not.”

“Oh, come now,” Blanky said, and instinctively put a comforting arm around Little’s shoulders. He wasn’t a small man, the lieutenant, but Blanky managed to tuck him in against his side all the same. “If command was simple, everyone would do it. And these aren’t what you’d call ideal circumstances.”

“It’s not that it’s supposed to be simple, it’s that I’m supposed to be capable of it,” said Little despairingly, and Blanky’s heart just about broke for the poor man. It wasn’t a position he envied, and particularly Little, with his natural inclination towards pessimism, was clearly taking it hard. “And this isn’t even true command. Commander Fitzjames has the truly difficult tasks and decisions to make. But when I think of myself with no one to turn to, or of something happening to the commander...I fear it.”

“You’re not incapable,” Blanky consoled. “You’ve done a bang-up job of keeping things together, and for much longer than just as the captain’s been ill.” He’d seen self-doubt before, plenty of it and in all strains of severity and sorrow. 

“I fear the men know that I’m out of my depth,” Little confided. “They know it’s just a ruse and any day now…”

“Now listen, none of that. Edward. Look here.” He loosened his grip on Little’s shoulder to get a better angle and look the man head-on. “That night when Francis gave the order to kick Lady Silence out the door, if Fitzjames hadn’t come in at just that moment and given Francis a much easier target to throw a punch at, things would have gotten nasty.”

Little said nothing but he was listening, a furrow in his brow.

“I saw you, and you were no happier with the situation than I was. And I’m not saying I would have been eager to declare my captain and one of my oldest friends besides unfit for command, but that’s what would have been needed. I wasn’t about to follow that order and you weren’t either. It wouldn’t have been mutiny, but damned if it wouldn’t have been close.”

“But it never came to that. The Commander arrived and- well, then the creature did as well and things went differently.”

“Yes, but what I’m saying is that we were on the same side, then. I saw you, and backed you up. Same as now. You don’t have to do it alone, Edward. No one’s asking you to do anything alone.” He squeezed Little’s shoulder. “You’ve got Commander Fitzjames, and a whole complement of lieutenants and more odds an’ ends than you could want. And luckily for you, _Terror_’s not in danger of running aground of falling afoul of a squall any time soon.”

Sometimes the simplest cures were the best. A friendly touch or a kind word. Blanky thought that Little’s problems were likely a sight more difficult to solve than all that, but it didn’t mean that the simple things didn’t help still. He took Little’s hand and rubbed at his knuckles comfortingly. “Considering the circumstances, maybe it doesn’t mean much but Crozier trusts you, and if his approval carries less weight these days, well. It’s true all the same.”

“The captain’s approval has always been important to me,” said Little. “If it weren’t, perhaps I wouldn’t have been so disappointed in him when it began to look as though that approval would be garnered by nothing more than my ability to fetch bottles of whiskey and not ask questions.”

Blanky considered Little with interest. There was vulnerability there and it was always nice to be trusted with vulnerability. He had noticed it before, particularly in the past months as Crozier’s decreasing ability to command had forced Little to take on more and more, and Blanky had done his best to lend his support. It was quite in contrast to the severe, by-the-book exterior that the lieutenant projected for the men.

To some extent it was justified: Little was still fairly young, and even had he not been their current situation would have given pause to even the most experienced of Arctic veterans. This Blanky could say with certainty. The ghost of his left foot twitched in remembrance of the creature’s claws coming down through skin, muscle, bone as if they’d been nothing more than paper, or butter, or some other cliché.

But much of Little’s doubts seemed merely to come from a place within, just a lack of confidence that if he could only get back, and seize the tiller with a bit more force...

“You know I trust you as well, if it helps to hear it,” Blanky said. It wasn’t enough, but it was all he could do at the moment.

“No, I- It does. Help. Your good opinion is- it means a great deal to me.” Little’s face was earnest. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t be managing without you.” He glanced down at their still joined hands and then looked away, his ears red. “Thank you. I- ah- I appreciate it, really, all you’ve done.” He seemed flustered. Little was rather sweet when he was flustered. Blanky could get used to that. If he didn’t need the man more or less put together and dealing with things, he could get very used to it indeed.

“Nothing to thank me for, lieutenant,” Blanky said with a deliberate squeeze of Little’s hand.

“You could-” Little blinked a few times in rapid succession, and squirmed slightly. “I don’t mind when you call me Edward, you know. I rather prefer it.”

“Oh?” Blanky let a slow, wide smile spread across his face.

Little smiled back cautiously. His cheeks were flushed.

_Hm,_ Blanky mused, _interesting._ This certainly added a new spin on things. _A delicate touch_.

“What it is you need, Edward,” he said aloud, and noted Little’s pleased expression at the address, “is just a bit of the old confidence back.” He stood. Little’s hand was still clasped in his own. “We’ll see what we can’t do about that.” _We’ll see indeed,_ he thought, and pulled Little up to stand beside him.


End file.
